


Starstruck

by Einarsdatter



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Einarsdatter/pseuds/Einarsdatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is introduced to a film star he has long admired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Kate, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

I made a conscious effort not to roll my eyes. My publicist, bless him, was forever introducing me to people he thought I would want, or should want, to have in my professional network. Occasionally, they proved to be useful contacts. More often, unfortunately, they turned out to be nothing more than hangers-on or aspiring actors/directors/producers. Some of them probably did have talent, but I was certain that my life would have gone on happily enough without them. Tonight, especially, I just wanted to focus on the opening of my friend’s latest movie. Between us we’d starred in dozens of films, most of them successful, many of them award-winning; one we had even worked on together. True, he didn’t yet have an Oscar to match my own, but he was a guaranteed box-office draw, and I was convinced that this was the work that would finally get him the hardware he so richly deserved. We had never been romantically involved, and I knew we never would be, but I felt strongly that he should be uppermost in my thoughts tonight. I deeply resented this intrusion from whoever was behind me waiting for an introduction.

Still, it wouldn’t do to be difficult, especially not at an industry party crawling with journalists and photographers. So, I dutifully turned and smiled, offering my publicist a kiss on the cheek before inspecting the supplicant he’d brought with him. “Kate, this is Tom Hiddleston.” I recognized the name immediately, of course, and in that brief moment wondered why we hadn’t been introduced before. But then our eyes met, and I felt my soul laid bare in a fathomless pool of blue. It was as though he knew everything I had ever done, said, felt, or thought. I closed my eyes, hoping to break the connection, afraid it was obvious to everyone that I was taking too long to respond. Extending my hand, I concentrated on keeping my voice steady. “Tom, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And it’s an absolute honor for me to meet you, Kate.” Oh God, a voice to match the eyes, I thought. Determined not to let myself fall under the spell of those eyes again, I focused my attention on the topmost button of his waistcoat and how its deep blue contrasted with the brilliant white of his shirt. But my view of his chest was temporarily blocked as, instead of shaking my proffered hand, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. It was an unexpected gesture, endearing, almost reverent, but my body's response was entirely unanticipated; I felt an actual physical twinge between my thighs when he pressed his lips to my skin. I suddenly wanted to feel those lips on more than just the back of my hand, and while part of my brain ran with that fantasy, another part tried to puzzle out what the hell was going on. I was no novice, after all; I’d spent my entire career in the company of beautiful people, and had slept with more than a few of them. I had never had such a visceral reaction to a person I’d just met.

Unable to rely on my senses for anything but a growing fog of attraction, I turned to what I call my bullshit meter. In the film industry flattery is the coin of the realm; everyone you meet loves your dress, your hair, your work, or all of the above. You stop paying attention after a while, because you know it doesn’t mean anything. But there was something about these eyes, this voice, that begged to be taken seriously, and my bullshit meter was uncharacteristically quiet. I hadn't had much practice accepting compliments that were actually sincere, but I managed to make my mouth form a polite response while imagining the rude noises it would make when I had his lips where I wanted them. I was vaguely aware that my publicist was already excusing himself to go and speak to someone on the other side of the room. I shot a look of near panic at my friend when he also made as if to go, leaning in to kiss my cheek, and whispering, "Have fun, Katie." With the hand that wasn't still trapped in Tom's warm grasp, I clutched my friend's elbow, holding him just close enough to hear my breathy reply. "If I don’t come out of this in one piece, you’ll always know it was your fault for abandoning me." He simply smiled and winked, before mumbling something for Tom’s benefit about going to refill his drink.

Thus it was I found myself alone with Tom Hiddleston, listening as best I could while he spoke in worshipful tones about his admiration for my work. I could swear that everything he said was as heartfelt as it was complimentary, that his comments said as much about his intelligence and taste as they did about my talent, but if I did swear any such thing I'd be a damned liar. The truth is that I didn't hear a word he said. I heard his voice, every resonant syllable increasing the moisture my poor knickers had to absorb. I felt his hand on mine, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over the site of his kiss. I saw his eyes, devouring me as if he was afraid I’d disappear. I felt my own eyes closing, felt myself surrendering as if to a hypnotist, when a sudden silence made it clear I'd missed something. I took a deep breath and apologized. "I'm sorry, Tom. What did you just say?"

"I asked if you'd like to get some fresh air. It is a bit close in here, and it seemed for a moment as though you might be feeling a little faint."

Oh, my dear Mr Hiddleston, you have no idea, I thought, as I knocked back what remained of my drink. Placing the empty glass in the hands of a passing waiter, I nodded at Tom and murmured, "Yes, thank you, I'd like that very much." He pulled me in tight against his side, never releasing my hand, simply adding another layer of physical contact by slipping his other arm around my waist. On two sides of the room there were French doors that opened onto a broad patio, and it was through the nearest of these that we made our escape. A gibbous moon bathed everything in soft light, revealing a back garden shrouded in shadow and mystery. It was warm enough to be comfortable in my strapless gown, but blessedly cool and quiet compared to the room we had just left. I felt my head clear immediately, and right behind the clarity came embarrassment. "I don't know what came over me in there," I breathed, trying to preserve the last vestiges of my dignity while leaning into Tom's chest and surreptitiously inhaling his clean masculine scent. 

"It looked like you got weary of listening to me drone on. I always talk too much when I'm nervous." The poor man had such a hang-dog look on his face, I had to fix it. Immediately.

"Oh my God, you really have no idea, do you? Tom, I would cheerfully double whatever Marvel paid you for your last film if you would follow me around and talk to me all day. Of course, it would shoot my productivity all to hell, but I don't think I could even pretend to care." I looked down demurely, only to find that the bulge in his trousers was as effective as his eyes had been in rendering me incapable of further speech. 

Luckily, at that moment no speech was required. I felt a hand lifting my chin, blue eyes piercing my defenses once more, his velvet voice low and smooth, "You say you don't know what came over you, Kate, but I can tell you exactly what has come over me. I looked in your eyes and got lost. I don't quite dare hope the same thing might have happened to you."

"Not the same thing, no. Lost in your eyes was only the beginning. Mesmerized by your voice and inflamed by your touch followed almost immediately." I closed my eyes again, making one final effort to escape. "This doesn't just happen, Tom. Not like this. Not to me."

"That's funny. It happens to me all the time. Every time I see you, no matter where. The only part of this that's new for me is the opportunity to touch you. Now I find that, having touched your hand, your waist, I just want more." I reached up to touch him. He closed his eyes, and I heard his breath hitch as I traced his cheekbone with one finger. I took his precious face in my two hands and pulled his head down so I could whisper in his ear.

"You want more? Take it." I took his earlobe between my teeth and nipped it softly. He made a growling sound deep in the back of his throat, taking my hand and leading me down the stairs and into the garden, strolling arm in arm until we had escaped the light streaming from every window of the house. Under cover of darkness, amongst the weeping willows, he finally stopped, leaning against the trunk of a tree and pulling me into an embrace that hinted we might both lose ourselves and find each other. I gasped at his boldness, surprise and desire leaving me breathless. We clung to each other for a moment, then I lifted my head to gaze into his eyes, almost black now between the darkness and his desire. His panting breaths revealed how much he was struggling to maintain control. Knowing that I had done this to him made me want him even more. I pressed myself against him, feeling the long firm muscles of his thighs, his cock now rigid and straining for release. "Kate," he groaned, "God help me, Kate, I want you." He bent his head to kiss me, tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth before devouring my neck and shoulder. I shuddered at the sensation of his warm, wet mouth on my bare skin.

I opened the button on his jacket and ran my hands up his chest, cursing the layers of fabric that kept me from pulling on his nipples with my teeth. As I began to work on his waistcoat, he moved one hand from the small of my back to my decolletage, stroking the top of my breast right where the dress began, sneaking one long finger down beside and underneath the soft flesh and gently lifting it free of its bonds. My nipple puckered immediately in the cool night air, and he caressed it once with his thumb before bending down to take it into his mouth. My head lolled back, his name escaping in a long, low moan. He responded by sucking, hard, as if my tit was his meat and drink, and the answering throb from my pussy would have brought me to my knees if he hadn’t been holding me so tightly.

"Touch me, Tom, please," I begged. His hand went under my skirt, searching, and I felt the vibrations in his chest when he found my wetness. “Oh, Jesus, Kate, so wet.” He started to tease my clit, his thumb stroking it while two beautiful long fingers slipped inside me. I was drowning, completely swamped by the feeling of his mouth, his hands, the desire in his voice, the pleasure building until I came completely apart in his arms. My cunt was clenching around his fingers, and suddenly they weren’t enough. I was almost screaming with the need to feel him stretch me wide, fuck me hard. I grabbed at his trousers, desperate to get his cock out of there, and as soon as I succeeded I felt myself lifted up and onto him, my legs spread around his hips, his hands cupping my bum and the head of his cock pushing, filling me with his glorious flesh. He turned so that my back was against the tree, his hands gripping me tightly as he found his way in, thrusting, pumping, driving his thick cock into me with all his strength. I had a fistful of his hair in one hand, holding his face to mine so my tongue could learn everything there was to know about his mouth. The other slid down to my clit, giving me that one last jolt that made the world explode. My wordless cries were drowned out by Tom's gasps of pleasure, my name on his lips as he spent himself inside me.

We held on tight to each other, afraid to move lest we collapse in a heap. By the time he slipped out of me, I was just beginning to feel like I might be able to support my own weight again. I stood on my own two feet, putting my bodice to rights as well as I could without benefit of lights and mirrors. I continued to hide my face in his chest, however, incredulous at what had just happened, what I had allowed, what I had practically begged him, a virtual stranger, to do to me. Once more I felt his hand tipping my chin upward. He looked deeply into my eyes, and I had the feeling that no one else would ever look at me in quite that way again. His lips claimed mine with a fierce intensity. When he pulled away he whispered, "I still want more."

As he released me and turned to go back to the house, I caught his hand and brought it to my lips. He smiled wistfully and walked away. I watched him go, waiting until he was out of earshot before whispering into the night, "Take it."


	2. Chapter 2

“Going back to the hotel. You were brilliant tonight. The film is brilliant. I love you. Call you tomorrow.”

 

I hit Send, and immediately turned my phone off. I couldn’t go back inside; I didn’t want to see or speak to anyone, not even my friend. I was too raw, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together long enough to take leave of anyone properly. Instead I walked around to the front of the house and found my driver. I asked him to call my publicist to say that I was unwell, that he was taking me home. I needed solitude and a hot bath. I needed a massage and a bottle of wine. I needed a month-long retreat in a convent. I needed to understand how it was that two hours ago I had been happy, or at least content, and now I was fighting back tears of longing and trying to bind up a Hiddle-sized hole in my heart. It wasn’t like I had anything to be sad about. I had just had an absolutely shattering sexual encounter with a gorgeous and talented man who said he wanted more. So why, pray tell, was I such a mess?

 

I laid my head back against the seat of the car and closed my eyes, totally focused on my breathing. There would be photographers waiting at the entrance to my hotel, and I was not interested in having anyone see pictures of me looking obviously upset. Not tonight. I just wanted to get to my room and collapse in private.

 

Tom’s POV

 

Every cell in my body was tingling. I had been certain that Kate would be at this party, given that she was known to be close to the guest of honor, and I was determined to meet her if I could. Luke, bless him, had given me his you're-crazy look when I told him, only half-jokingly, that his job and possibly my life depended on his ability to arrange an introduction. He knew how much I admired her, of course, both personally and professionally; he had seen me in full-on fanboy mode often enough. In truth, he was probably surprised I hadn't tried to meet her before. I suppose I could have pushed for it any time in the last couple of years. The sad fact was, though, that the quality I loved most in her, her courage, was the one thing I completely lacked where she was concerned. Had I wanted to meet her? Desperately. But I also had no wish to be dismissed with a “Tom who?” Now, however, with The Avengers and the Henriad and Only Lovers under my belt, I thought the time was right to risk it. There was virtually no way she could plausibly pretend to be unaware of my existence at this point.

 

Still, I had fully expected, and rather enjoyed, the hauteur on her face when she turned in my direction, so clearly annoyed about having her conversation interrupted. I had intended to charm her out of that annoyance and into something more pleasant. I had planned to let her know how much I treasured each and every one of her fearless performances. I had not anticipated that sparks would fly when she looked into my eyes. Nor that my cock would twitch when she said my name. 

 

In my wildest dreams I could never have imagined that she would give herself to me in the back garden, and there was still a part of me that wondered how much longer it would be before my alarm clock went off. The fact that she wanted me had thrilled me, and made me forget for a time how far out of my league she really was. I had been cheeky enough to tell her twice that I wanted more, but not brave enough in the end to face her inevitable rebuff. No, I had slunk away like a coward, before she had a chance to tell me there was no way forward for us, that she had no interest in being in a relationship right now, or with me. I had given her what I could, had received from her much more than I expected or deserved, and if I closed my eyes I could still feel what it was like to pour my whole self into her, almost as if our bodies were still joined.

 

These tender reminiscences were interrupted as I approached the house and a familiar figure hailed me from the patio. "Hey, Tom, good to see you!"

 

"Yeah, man, good to see you, too. Listen, I didn't really get to congratulate you before. Your performance was just amazing. No one else could have come close to what you achieved with this film."

 

"Thanks, Tom. But you know what it's like to play a character who's 'misunderstood,' don't you?"

 

"Ehehehe. That I do, although I'm not sure we should be putting Loki on the same level with your character."

 

"Either way, it's a guy who doesn't have everything figured out as well as he thinks, right? Speaking of which, you wouldn't happen to know where Kate's run off to, would you?"

 

"Errr . . . well . . . that is to say . . . we took a walk earlier, but . . ."

 

"A walk? Is that what they're calling it now?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

 

I started to shoulder past him, wondering whether Kate would expect me to allow this invasion of privacy and quickly deciding I didn’t much care. “I’m sorry, I know you and Kate are close, but this conversation is really out of bounds, and I need to be going.” Bloody wanker, I wanted to smash his pretty face.

 

He reached out to grab my arm. “Don’t get your undies in a bunch, Tom; it was pretty clear where the two of you were headed. Please note that I left you alone with her, knowing full well what was going to happen. Look, Kate is like my little sister. Best friend. Favorite cousin. I love her truly, but not madly; deeply, but not passionately. We're not lovers. Never have been. I am, however, fiercely protective of her, and I'd like to know that she's okay. So where is she?" His phone buzzed with an incoming text. "On her way back to the hotel. Well, congratulations, Mr Hiddleston, it appears that you wore her out."

 

I wasn't sure if he really expected me to talk about my tryst with Kate, or if he was just trying to wind me up, but I was determined not to indulge him in either case. "Yes, well, I'm feeling a bit knackered myself, to be honest, so perhaps I'll be on my way as well. Congratulations again, and enjoy the rest of your evening." I couldn't get away from him fast enough. The very last thing I needed was a vivid reminder of how deeply involved he was in her life, lover or not. How deeply involved I wasn't, and never would be. What I really needed was a nice, stiff drink and a shower. To replay tonight’s events in my head and commit every word, every look, every touch to memory. I wasn’t a part of her life, but she would forever be a part of mine. And that would have to be enough.

 

Kate’s POV

 

Ah, blessed relief! I swear, the benefits of a hot bath cannot be overstated. Every muscle relaxed, pores open, steam easing the breath, the fragrance of my favorite bath oil. I’d already been in long enough to get pruny, and I was in no hurry to go anywhere. This was the best I’d felt since, well, since I’d had Tom Hiddleston inside me. The memory of that feeling set my hands in motion, enjoying the silk of my skin under the influence of aromatic oils. I imagined Tom’s hands, his impossibly large yet slender hands, caressing me all over. Palming a breast, pinching the nipple. Making his way south to my mound. I remembered the feeling of his fingers on me and in me. My own hands were a poor substitute, but they served their purpose. Between the actual sensation of touching myself and the equally powerful effects of memory and imagination, it wasn’t long before I was ready to come, my breathing ragged, my pulse racing. I saw Tom in my mind’s eye, his own orgasm imminent, his face so beautiful as he tried in vain to hold back a little longer, and then his gasping breaths when he could contain himself no more. Gasping my name, because it was my body that made him lose control of his. The memory sent me over the edge, into a release almost as satisfying as the one I’d had with him.

 

Sated and relaxed, I refused to give in again to the melancholy that had come over me immediately after we parted. Instead I replayed our leave-taking in my head, trying to understand what had happened. He had left me under the tree, that was what hurt. When I wanted him to hold me and whisper that we would never be parted. When I wanted to kiss him and touch him and promise him my undying adoration. He said he wanted more, and then he left. The two didn't match up. One of them wasn't real. But which one?

 

Perhaps his interest in me had been feigned, his love-making merely opportunistic, his declaration pro forma, and he left because he didn’t want to be there with me once he’d gotten what he came for. That didn't really feel like what happened, but I had at least to admit it was a possibility. And what was the alternative? The alternative was that his interest was genuine, his love-making heartfelt, his declaration sincere. That was the Tom I thought I had met this evening. But if all that was true, why would he run away?

 

Why does anyone run away? Because they're afraid. But what did he have to be afraid of? He ran away from me. Was he afraid of me? Why would he be afraid of me? If he was interested in me, if he wanted me, if he wanted more, what was there to fear? And then I knew. Every actor knows that fear. Rejection. He was afraid that I’d already gotten everything I wanted from him, that it was just a quick shag at a party for me, that I would refuse him the "more" he said he wanted.

 

I couldn't decide whether to be flattered or irritated. All I knew for sure was that I wasn't through with him. Not by a long shot. I had been an idiot to let him walk away in the first place, but I knew that if he was determined to fuck this up, I wouldn't be able to stop him. In that case I would have go on without him. But I wasn’t going to volunteer for that life. I wasn't going to give him up without a fight. Even if the only one I had to fight with was him. Especially not then. After all, I hadn't built a successful film career by not going after what I want. Clear about my own feelings, at least, I got out of the bath and into a pretty peignoir. If I was going on the warpath, I wanted to be dressed appropriately. A quick text to my publicist, asking for Tom’s mobile number. Another thanking him for his prompt reply, and assuring him that I was quite well, thank you, already feeling much better, must have had a little too much to drink on an empty stomach. I had everything I needed . . . except Tom. Time to fix that.

 

Tom’s POV

 

Two drinks into Operation Forget About Fucking Kate, I was starting to feel like a reasonable facsimile of myself again. A quick wank in the shower had taken the edge off, although it had entailed a lot of remembering fucking Kate. The feeling of her hot, wet pussy enveloping my cock, the sound of my name on her lips when she begged me to touch her, the look on her face when she came on my hand, all the images of our love-making rapidly brought me to the brink. I was just rational enough to hope that the bathroom was soundproof, because all the noise I hadn’t dared make when we were together came tumbling out of me now, cursing and pleading and promising I know not what, but above all else her name. I practically screamed her name when I remembered the feeling of her coming on my cock, the incredible pleasure of releasing my seed inside her. I kept stroking until I had nothing left, leaning my forearm against the shower wall for support. I had never been so turned on by anyone; she had ruined me for life.

 

Well and truly exhausted, then, I had put on my most comfortable pyjama bottoms and poured myself a wee dram of whiskey. And then another. My mind was almost as calm as my body was spent; I thought that one more drink might finally be enough to put me to sleep. And then my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number, but the thumbnail picture was of Kate. She was wearing something designed to short-circuit my brain and cause a physical reaction my body was not ready to have. I moaned as much from pain as pleasure, wondering what I had done to deserve torture on such a scale. Right behind that feeling, though, came another one I hadn't allowed myself before. Hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Kate's POV

Not until after I'd sent the photo did it occur to me to wonder where he'd be when he received it. I hoped he wasn't in a place where other people could see his screen. I wondered where he was. Had he stayed at the party after I left? Was he still there now? Had some nubile young starlet sidled up to him and tried to make him forget me? Had she succeeded? How long did it take for one of these messages to reach its destination? What if his phone was turned off? Out of battery? How many minutes would have to go by before I could reasonably assume he had seen my message? Before I could be certain his silence was the only reply I should expect?

I poured myself a glass of wine in an attempt to avoid losing my mind entirely. This emotional seesaw I was on was . . . disconcerting. Over the course of the last few hours I had been back and forth between arrogance and insecurity, ecstasy and desolation, determination and despair. I hadn’t been this far out of control since I was fifteen. The only thing in my adult life that put me in a state anything like this was waiting to hear about a part I wanted really badly. And, truthfully, that was exactly what was going on here. I wanted Tom to give me a major role in his life. I wanted it, I wanted him, so badly it was physically painful. The wine made the aching feeling in my heart recede just slightly, but it did nothing for the throbbing between my legs. And the fact that the ball was no longer in my court was driving me a little bit crazy. I knew what I wanted, but I couldn't unilaterally make it happen. I didn't like having to live with this uncertainty, yet I knew he had the information he needed to pursue me if he wished. I couldn't be any clearer about my own desires without making a complete fool of myself. I finally decided to finish my wine and head for bed, feeling more than a little foolish already.

  

Tom's POV

I stared at the screen for a full minute, my brain fighting the fuzz and haze the whiskey had created. Surely this meant she wanted to see me again. But what was I supposed to do with this information? Call her? At this hour, and with my head less than fully functional? I wasn't sure that was such a good idea. But she wouldn't send me a photo, a photo like that, a photo and nothing else, unless she wanted me to call her back, immediately. If I waited until a civilized hour, or even just until I could gather my wits about me, she'd assume I was rejecting what could only be seen as, well, as a . . . proposition. She really did want me, as more than just a party favor. She was offering me a second chance, and I was sitting here like a gormless twit, torn between elation and outright panic. Meanwhile, time was ticking by, and I had probably already waited too long to respond. I scrolled to the top of the screen and pressed Call.

"Hello, Tom." Her voice was cool, distant. I had been too slow; my lady was displeased.

"Kate." I poured all the love and desire and need and joy I felt at hearing her voice into my quiet greeting.

Her little sigh told me she had heard it, heard all the meaning a single word could carry. "Where are you calling from?" A slight thaw. Concern, curiosity, still a little wounded pride.

"My hotel room," I answered in the most seductive tone I could muster. "I've been sitting here, drinking alone, thinking I'd never see you again. Wishing I could be with you right now."

I thought I heard a little whine at the back of her throat. "You could be. I wish you were." I could hear her surrender; if we were together she'd be in my arms, and I would be in heaven.

"I mean to grant you all your wishes, Kate. Do you really want me there with you? Now?"

"I do. Yes. God, yes. Do you despise me?"

"Never. I said I wanted more, and I meant it, every word. Where are you staying, my love?"

"Le Grand Hotel, Jacqueline Suite."

"I'll be right there." I rang off, and immediately started throwing things into a bag. Her hotel was literally two blocks from mine, a walk just long enough to clear my head. When I got there I was greeted in the lobby by a bellhop who said he'd been told to expect me. He took the bag off my shoulder and escorted me to the elevators. It wasn't until we reached Kate's door that I realized he intended to carry my bag into the suite. Not wanting a witness to our reunion, I thanked him and tipped him, and he stepped away just as she opened the door. I stood there, not wanting to say anything that the retreating bellhop would hear, and unable to enter the room with Kate standing in the doorway. Her stormy countenance made it clear that my penance was not yet complete. After a long silent minute, she opened the door wide and stood aside, waving me in and taking my bag to hang it in the closet. I closed and locked the door, and turned to see her regarding me gravely.

"You left me."

"I was afraid you'd send me away. It would have destroyed me if you had. I couldn't bear to risk it."

"Why did it take you so long to call me?"

"I'd been drinking. It took me a minute to work out what you wanted me to do." I wrapped her in my arms, her head on my chest and my hand stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Kate. Can you forgive me? Twice?" I took her face in my hands, and looked deeply into her eyes. I saw pain and confusion, fear, anger, vulnerability. But there was also desire, and determination, and tenderness. "Please, Kate? Let me try again. As long as I know you want me, I can face anything. I promise you."

She opened one of the buttons on my shirt and kissed my chest, ran her tongue around one of my freckles, and started sucking. I groaned at the feeling of all the blood in my body racing to my groin. She lifted her lips from my skin just long enough to whisper, "Oh, I want you, Tom. There's no question about that. Let me show you just how much I want you, so you never doubt again." Her tongue found another freckle, and her lips closed around it while she undid the rest of the buttons and opened my shirt wide, pushing it over my shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She put both her hands on my chest and pushed me back against the door, pinching one nipple while suckling the other, her free hand palming my erection before reaching to undo my belt. Sweet Jesus, was she about to suck my cock?!? The idea of her mouth on me, just the thought of it, had me struggling for control, breathing deeply as I tried to keep from coming in my pants.

"Kate." It was a prayer, a plea for mercy. She had unzipped my fly, and her hands were inside my boxers, one on each hip, sliding down, exposing more and more of me, my cock springing free. I slipped off my shoes and stepped out of my trousers while she kissed and nipped her way down my torso and onto her knees, her hands exploring my bare legs, her mouth nibbling and sucking on my skin, leaving a trail of little marks. I cried out when she took me in one hand, her grasp firm but gentle, her other hand cradling my balls. She dragged one fingernail lightly over the skin behind them, and at the same time used her tongue to lap at the moisture accumulating at the tip.

"Mmmmmm, so gorgeous." She licked her lips and looked up at me, her lascivious grin letting me know that she was well aware of the effect she was having on me. She opened her mouth wide and let me see her tongue, keeping eye contact as she approached. She licked the underside from root to tip, and then finally latched on, taking me into her mouth and sucking in earnest. God, it was everything I'd imagined, the heat, her tongue. She took in about half my length before retreating, and then she grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, taking more of me in her mouth. I waited for her gag reflex to kick in, but she didn't seem to have one. She just kept taking more and more. I felt her swallow around me, and it was lights out. My brain was gone, all conscious thought obliterated by the feeling of feeding her, hot come just spewing out of me and down her perfect throat. She kept swallowing, and each time she did I felt another spurt as my cock gave her everything, everything I had. She took it all, sucking and licking until there was nothing left. I had no idea what kinds of sounds had just come out of my mouth, but I was grateful that hers was the only suite on this end of the floor. I knew I hadn't exactly been discreet in expressing what I was feeling. And this woman, this goddess incarnate, was sitting back, calmly surveying the devastation she had caused.

I hauled her up off the floor and lifted her into my arms, carrying her to the bed and depositing her gently upon it. I kissed her reverently, stretching out next to her and pulling her tightly against me. "Sweet Kate." I could taste myself when she opened her mouth to receive my tongue. "I'm afraid you'll never be rid of me now, madam. Destroy me if you will; I’ll never have the strength to walk away from you again."

She smiled at me contentedly, clearly pleased with herself and secure in the knowledge that she had made me her willing slave. "I have no wish to be rid of you, Tom. Everything changed when I met you tonight. And when we made love it was as if I had found a part of me that I never knew was missing. Then you walked away, taking that piece of me with you, and I was the one destroyed. I need to have you with me now; I'm not complete without you.” She rolled onto her side and kissed me, her fingers playing with the stubble on my chin. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Are you still afraid of being sent away?"

"No, my love, not anymore. I thought we were both just caught up in the moment; I would never have dared imagine there could be any more to it than that. But when you sent me that photo I knew I wasn't the only one who wanted more. I still don’t quite understand how it's possible that I'm here with you. But I do believe you, Kate; I believe that you want me as much as I want you. And I promise I will do my best to trust that, to remember that neither of us has to get hurt if we cherish each other the way that I want to cherish you."

"Mmmmmmm, I like the sound of that."

"And I like that sound you make when you're about to come. So, as much as it meant to me to get a photo of you in this beautiful lingerie, as much as I love to look at you wearing it, I think it's high time you took it off." I moved between her legs, and helped her up into a kneeling position. She held my gaze as she shrugged off the outer robe, then peeled off the matching nightgown underneath, leaving her exposed to my appreciative eye. I had seen her nude onscreen, but this was overwhelming; I couldn't believe I was allowed to touch this masterpiece. No silicon had distorted or hardened her breasts, no nips or tucks had flattened what should be curved. Hers was the body of a woman, a stunning, regal, voluptuous female form that demanded nothing less than worship from a mere mortal such as I. I pulled her into my embrace, reveling in the feel of her breasts touching my chest, skimming the silken skin of her back with my hands. I helped her to lie back again on the bed, and followed her down, lying atop her for the first time, ravishing her mouth with mine and letting my hands wander where they would. I moved down to play with her breasts, covering one with my hand and kneading it while mouthing the other. It was when I teased the nipple with my teeth that I was finally rewarded with one of her breathy moans. 

"Tom, oh God, yes, Tom, suck my tit." A gentleman doesn't ignore a request like that even if he wants to, and I definitely did not want to. I set to it, exulting in her ever-more-vocal response, and sent a hand south to explore the rest of her treasures. I parted her lips with two fingers and slid a third one between them to find her already wet, her feminine flesh soft and warm and swollen with need.

It was my turn to moan. "My God, Kate, is this for me?" I moved down further so I could see her glistening with desire.

She bucked her hips, frustrated by the momentary lack of stimulation. "Yes, Tom, all for you. Please, touch me. Do something, anything, please."

"With pleasure, my love."

Kate's POV

Aaaaahhhhhhh!!! At last, I had those lips where I had wanted them all night. Another time I would want him to take the grand tour of my southern reaches, luxuriating in the flesh of my inner thigh, scraping and scratching his stubble across my sensitive skin, kissing and biting as he went. But at the moment I was already a whimpering mess, and all it took was a flick of his glorious tongue to send a jolt of electricity to my core. I arched my back at the sensation, prompting him to slide his hands underneath my thighs and over my hips, holding me down so that I wouldn't be able to relieve the tension building deep inside me. His tongue kept circling, and I was moaning his name, pleading with him, when I felt him sucking on my clit. I gasped at the spike of pleasure that ripped through me, that peaked when he shoved his long fingers way up inside me, fucking me senseless and making me explode. I clutched at the bedclothes while my whole body shook, afraid I really would fly apart, his fingers and tongue showing no mercy until I begged him to stop. He raised his head and slowed his hand then, pump becoming thrust and then push and stroke and finally caress as he brought me down and put my shattered pieces back together. He held me close and showered me with kisses that tasted like me. I kissed him back and told him I would always be his, our kisses getting lighter and shorter and less frequent as the hour and our exertions finally caught up with us. But I lay awake, contemplating the miracle of this night and the man who held me in his arms, waiting until he was fast asleep before whispering into his chest, "I love you."


End file.
